


Stay Cool on the Streets

by clockworkmargaret (morganya)



Category: The Mighty Boosh (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Embarrassment, F/F, Gen, Makeup, Nonbinary Character, fashion - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-16 19:01:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19324180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morganya/pseuds/clockworkmargaret
Summary: Naboo wins an award, and Vin and Howard need to look their best.





	Stay Cool on the Streets

**Author's Note:**

> Title nicked from Lady's Gaga's Hair.

"This is important to me," Naboo insisted, though their face kept its usual impassive expression. "It usually takes thousands of years to get recognized for Achievements in Shamanic Sciences. Three hundred years is practically unheard of. It's going to be a huge party and you two need to look your best."

Vin's face lit up at the mention of the word 'party,' while Howard just looked suspicious. "What do you mean, best?" she asked.

"Vin be okay," Bella said from the kitchen table. She was holding a banana in one hairy paw and a bunch of grapes in the other, deciding which one she wanted to eat first. "Hildegarde will look like plonker as usual."

"I _do_ actually have stylish dresses, you know," Howard said, stung.

"What, you mean you're going to haul that patterned monstrosity you call formalwear out of the wardrobe again?" Vin said. "You won't make it past the front door. They'll think you've got lost on your way to the supply teacher's convention."

"Just because I don't go round looking like a dog's dinner with frills and fripperies coming out me arse doesn't mean I don't make a splash," Howard said.

"Like a tsunami of beige," Vin said.

"You've got to make a little more of an effort," Naboo told Howard. "You're not going anywhere unless you're ceremony-appropriate."

"I hate ceremonies and I hate parties," Howard said. "The only reason I'd go is because you asked me to."

"And I'm asking you to go, you titbag," Naboo said.

Howard looked at Vin. "Well, what do I do?"

Vin contemplated Howard for a long minute. "Well, it's a trembler," she said. "But no question that I can make something out of you, though you aren't giving me much to work with."

"Wow, thanks," Howard said. "If you try to make me into one of your ridiculous Camden flashy friends, I'm going to come at you. Like an enraged swan."

"There's nothing wrong with my friends."

"You went out with someone wearing a latex frog mask last week."

"Who, Felix? That's his look. He's Felix the Frogman. He tried scuba gear but he kept overheating."

"He looks like a horror movie."

"Enough," Naboo said. "Vin, make Howard presentable for the ceremony. Howard, wear what she makes you. And Bella, make sure you bring enough molly for everyone at the afterparty."

"Why is Bella getting molly?" Howard asked.

"Bella have connections," Bella said. "Nobody fuck with Bella."

Howard sighed.

When Howard told her the ideas for what she wanted to wear for Naboo's ceremony, Vin shot practically every single one of them down. Howard was offended. She argued her point up to and during the fitting.

"You're not going out in public dressed like Magnum PI's mad wife," Vin told her through a mouthful of pins. Howard was stood in the front room sweating under swathes of fabric, while Vin tucked and poked and prodded her. Occasionally Vin took a break and sketched something out on the artist's pad resting by her side.

"That's my look," Howard protested. "Shows off my best features."

"It's no good showing off your best features when the rest of you is a Hawaiian nightmare," Vin said.

Howard glared at her, but she had a feeling that Vin had a point. She usually went by instinct when it came to dressing herself, but often her instincts conflicted with reality. She stood six foot one without her shoes, with baby-fine hair that tangled if there was a strong wind, brown fuzz on her upper lip that was a battle to depilate, long skinny legs and a weakness for curries that showed in the soft curves of her belly. Most of the time she settled for what she could get.

"I don't want you to make me look stupid," she told Vin.

"Oh, give me some credit, Howard," Vin said. She took a pin out of her mouth and fixed a flap of silk to Howard's shoulder. "How do you feel about suits?"

"Suits are for the business world," Howard said. "I'm a free spirit."

"Free spirit?" Vin said. "Who are you, Holly Golightly? You need a proper suit. Like Marlene Dietrich. Or Bianca Jagger."

"I'll look like a man."

"You won't. You'll look like a lady wearing a suit. Show those Northern curves off."

"Why can't you wear a suit?"

"Who says I'm not?"

"Well, are you?"

"Dunno," Vin said. "Thought I might go high femme. Or stone butch. Depends on my mood on the day."

"So you still haven't decided."

"No. But it'll be genius," Vin said smugly. She took the pins out of her mouth and took a huge bite out of the brownie sitting next to her. Howard felt a sudden stab of irritation; she'd baked an entire tray of brownies earlier in the week and Vin had put the majority of them into her infuriatingly slender body and it wasn't _fair_.

Vin was small and birdlike, with a crooked nose and a Cupid's bow mouth. She'd begun dying her hair black at the beginning of the year, but it had gone through various shades of blonde and brown and red and blue since Howard had known her. She had small, neat hands and muscular arms and legs covered with coarse, dark hair. She was the most fashionable person Howard knew.

"So what color do you want?" Vin asked. "I can do the classic white or a nice black or an electric blue."

Howard thought for a moment. "Inquisitive Coffee."

"Oh, be adventurous for once in your life," Vin said.

"I am being adventurous," Howard said. "A safe choice would be Careworn Russet or Melancholy Taupe. Have you never considered the possibilities of the beige rainbow?"

Vin gave her a scornful look. "Don't talk to me about the beige rainbow. I may lapse into a coma before I can get our outfits made. Also I need you to pick up some things for me at the M.A.C. counter. I've got to try to do something with those belt holes you call eyes."

"Don't have a go at me about my eyes," Howard said, mostly for form's sake. "And I don't want to go to the M.A.C. counter. It's a haze of vanilla-scented fever dreams."

"You just don't want to go because you don't know what anything is."

"Who said I don't know what anything is? I'm well versed in the art of lipsticking and eyebrowing and eyelining."

"You don't even wear makeup."

"Just because I don't even do it doesn't make me not an expert," Howard said. "In my mind, I'm the greatest makeup artist of all time."

"You can handle all the imaginary makeup looks," Vin said. "I'll take care of the real, street-level makeup looks. You can still pick up a bit of lippy for me."

"I've got better things to do than be your errand girl," Howard grumbled, but held still while Vin fixed another piece of fabric around her waist and then dashed something off on her pad.

Over the next few days Vin repeatedly hinted she was making Howard an electric blue velour tracksuit, but on the morning of Naboo's ceremony, she presented Howard with a full tweed suit in ridge brown, wide-shouldered and tucked in at the waist. Even Howard had to admit that she had outdone herself.

"Just put a rollneck on underneath," Vin said. "Not one of your olive nightmares, a nice black or dark grey one. And I've got to do something about your hair before we go."

"There's nothing wrong with my hair," Howard said, momentarily distracted from running her fingers over the comfortable nubbly fabric of her suit.

"You've got a bird's nest made of smoke on top of your head."

"It's _tousled_."

"It's a mess."

Howard glared at her. "Well, what am I supposed to do then?"

"I'll pencil you in for later this afternoon," Vin said. "I've got a break in the preparations then."

" _The_ preparations?" Howard said. "You mean you've got to slather goose fat all over your body and stay in the bathroom for five hours doing whatever hoodoo rituals you do."

"Yeah," Vin said brightly. "But I'll take time out to put the finishing touches on you. You'll be a glamazon."

"Howard Moon has no need for superficialities, little one," Howard said. "I stride this world completely unadorned, like Lady Godiva."

"Lady Godiva had better hair," Vin said.

Howard harrumphed and then said, "Well, when do you want me?"

"When are we leaving for Naboo's ceremony again?"

"Five."

"I'll meet you at half past three," Vin said. "Put your suit on beforehand. Then you and I will take a little trip to Vin Noire's Beauty Salon."

"It's called the front room, Vin."

"Same difference."

Before she got dressed, Howard made jacket potatoes with cheese and mushrooms for a late lunch, because if experience had taught her anything it was that Vin always went to parties and drank too many fizzy pink cocktails without bothering to eat, and it was better to give her a substantial meal beforehand to minimize the damage. From what she knew of Naboo's shaman colleagues, they partied hard. Vin dashed out of her room in a half-open kimono, her hair wrapped up in a towel, and bolted her food down before disappearing into her room again. Howard decided not to question whatever she was doing in there 

She took advantage of the empty bathroom to grab a shower, and then went to put on her suit. She was tempted to wear her favorite Hawaiian shirt but decided to cede this one time to Vin's fashion advice and pulled on one of her rollnecks, the dark grey one. The trousers were more close-fitting than she was used to, clinging to her hips and cupping her belly, while the suit jacket hung from her shoulder and swished gently whenever she moved. It was comfortable enough to forget about, which pleased her. She went back out to the front room to listen to some Soft Machine.

Vin reappeared at three, emerging from her room in a cloud of jasmine-scented steam, her face covered in a disturbingly colored clay mask. She was carrying her straighteners and her enormous makeup bag. "Right, here we go then!"

"You look like Dr. Frankenstein's blowsy sister," Howard said.

"I'm building a masterpiece here," Vin said and gestured to herself. "Now sit down and let me fix you up."

It took thirty minutes of Vin smearing stuff on her face and hair and tugging her curls this way and that before Howard finally got a look at herself in the mirror. She peered at herself.

"I thought you'd look good with a finger wave," Vin said, looking pleased. "I was right."

Howard tilted her head. Her hair was parted on the side and shining, flyaways tamed. Vin had done something to her eyebrows, filled them in with something, and it gave her a slightly quizzical expression. Her eyes were lined in black and her mouth was very red.

"You maybe should have a hat," Vin mused. "Complete the look."

"It might muss the hair," Howard said.

"Yeah, might do. Try not to move until we leave."

"What do you mean, try not to move? I have to move."

"Not if you want to keep this look intact, you don't."

"I'm perfectly able to keep myself together, thank you."

Vin gave her a significant look and said, "Really?" 

Howard pressed her back into the settee, crossed her ankles and folded her hands in her lap. Vin gave an approving nod and went back into her room.

The next time Howard saw Vin, she was in all her glory, appearing in a short black shift dress with neon yellow tights. Silver jewelry flashed around her wrists and neck. Her hair was teased into a beehive and her eyes were surrounded with black lashes that made them even more ridiculously big and ridiculously blue.

"Amy Winehouse meets Twiggy," Vin said gleefully. "Should I have worn flats, do you reckon? I don't know how long I can stand on these."

"You'll have to ask Naboo," Howard said. "I don't know how long this will go on for."

Right on cue, Naboo came down the hall with Bella trailing behind. While Vince was decked out in silver, Naboo had gone for gold, with golden robes, gold bells on their shoes, and golden thread woven through their long dark plait. Bella was carrying a rug under her arm and her long dangling earrings and golden bangles chimed whenever she moved.

"Good, you're ready," Naboo said. "We're taking the carpet tonight."

"Where exactly is this ceremony?" Howard asked.

"Classified."

"Classified?" Vin said. "Why is it classified?"

"The Council like to be important," Naboo said. "Climb on."

They clambered onto the carpet and flew out of the city, past the moon who looked on smiling, into a dark and mysterious forest. Naboo brought the carpet to a halt and they all got off. There were tree stumps in strategic locations with trays of stuffed mushrooms and bacon-wrapped scallops on them, and a tall woman with icy blue eyes standing among them, wrapped in a cloak of peacock feathers with moonlight glinting off her pixie cut. "Naboo! I bid you welcome to the sacred annual ceremony for shamanic achievement! Are these your plus-twos?"

"Awright, Denise," Naboo said. "You know Bella, my familiar, and my flatmates Vin and Howard."

"You brought humans as your plus-twos?" someone said disbelievingly from the depths of the forest, and then a figure in a black feathered cloak and heavy liner around their intelligent eyes stepped forward. They were carrying something that looked like a blue beachball with tentacles. "You're going to just throw a wrench into a ceremony we've been planning all year, are you? Well bloody done. I expect you'll be wanting to have our board meetings in the Houses of Parliament next. What an absolute plum you are."

"This is an outrage!" the blue beachball said. "Wait until I tell Mr Harrison about this nonsense."

"Mr Harrison _doesn't_ need to know everything about the shaman business, Toni," the figure said and shook their dark curls haughtily. "Why is it that every time something happens you want to go gossip to your husband about it?"

"Mr Harrison is a very discreet individual, Saboo!" Toni said.

"What do you mean, discreet individual? He couldn't be less discreet if he tried," Saboo said. "The neighborhood busybody, that's what he is."

"I don't know what the big deal is," Naboo said. "No one complains when Kirk brings people round."

"Kirk is a dangerous, unpredictable sexual maniac who cannot be contained," Saboo said. "Kirk! Have you at least tried to dissuade your orgy partners from entering the ceremony this year?"

A small blonde girl with bouncy ringlets tied in blue bows and a short white dress with puffy sleeves emerged from the shadows. She took a contemplative lick of the enormous lollipop she was holding and said, "No."

"Silence," Denise said. "I will make an exception this year, Naboo, but sometimes I wonder at the moral caliber of the team I have assembled."

Howard ate a stuffed mushroom. Vin nudged her. Bella mumbled, "I got a bad feeling about this."

It was a very long ceremony. Shamans from various countries and planets came and gave speech after speech, some in languages that neither Vin nor Howard could understand. A parade of eccentrically dressed beings wandered in and out of the mysterious forest, some walking, some hovering, some flapping, only to leave holding a ruby-encrusted talisman in their hands or hooves or mouths or beaks. Howard was beginning to nod off.

Finally Denise came to the front and said, "The battle for this year's award for Achievement in Shamanic Science was intense. Many nominees stepped forward to prove their worth by conjuring, cursing and majicking everything in sight. The Shamen Council took at least thirty minutes to discuss the merits of each nominee. But finally, we decided, that this year's award for Achievement in Shamanic Science goes to our young Xooberonian friend, Naboo, for their selfless dedication to improving the lives and saving the hides of the two human idiots they live with. And I do believe, in an unprecedented turn of events, those same two idiots have come along to the ceremony! It's Howard Moon and her frightening-looking husband, Vin Noire! Just look at their pathetic faces! Not a brain to share among them!"

Everyone in the forest was looking at Vin and Howard. There was an unholy sound of what seemed like a thousand shamans laughing at once. Howard slouched down and tried to shield Vin from view, while Vin looked baffled and huddled behind her.

"What a couple of plum puddings!" Saboo said.

"Cowgirl up and take it, you slags!" Toni Harrison said, and little Kirk paused from pouring champagne and pills down her throat to point and laugh.

Naboo stood up to go collect their award. They leaned in and whispered in Howard's ear, "You can take the carpet back to the flat early, if you want."

"All right," Howard said, took Vin's hand and led her back to the carpet, while the shamans continued laughing.

When they returned to the flat, Howard and Vin took their shoes off with a simultaneous groan of relief. Vin said, "Cup of tea?"

"Works for me," Howard said. She went to put the kettle on.

"I still think we look quite smart," Vin said.

"You outdid yourself," Howard agreed. "What do shamans know, anyway? Hanging out in a ridiculous forest like that. And their canapes were terrible. I'll have indigestion for a week."

"Awful," Vin said. "Still, it's nice to have a night out. Have a bit of fresh air."

"I suppose you're right." Howard handed over a steaming mug.

"Want to watch _Peacock Dreams_?"

"You read my mind, little one," Howard said, and followed her out.


End file.
